


the one we've been waiting for

by goodnightfern



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean, Communication Failure, Dean Has Abandonment Issues, Episode Tag, M/M, Marijuana, Oral Sex, You just gotta ask man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightfern/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: When life gives you lemons, you paint that shit gold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> who needs disappointment? not me, baby.

“So,” Dean says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’s trying not to look too ridiculous, but the thrill of killing motherfucking Hitler has him shaking. So maybe he’s feeling a little ballsy. That’s fine. “Killing Hitler.”

“Killing Hitler.” Aaron is standing in front of the Impala, one hand on his hip and the other resting on the trunk. So Aaron’s feeling pretty gutsy, too. “Pretty sweet, right?”

“We should celebrate.”

“You buying?”

Fuck yeah, Dean’s buying. They slide in the car and Aaron doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. They hit a bar and Aaron still isn’t going anywhere.

Dean doesn’t know how close he should sit. How far to lean in. He’s an idiot, he’s useless, and he orders a mai tai because he wants that pink umbrella so fucking badly he can’t stand it.

Aaron is twirling his own umbrella, looking at Dean’s hands.

Dean smiles at him. He looks awkward and wrecked and he knows it.

And Aaron fucking _winks._

“You know, Dean, I’m not actually gay,” Aaron says all casually.

As if the universe hasn’t just fucking disintegrated. As if he didn’t just rip the rug out from under Dean. As if Dean isn’t about to fall off his stool and burn rubber back to the motel to get blind drunk and ignore Sam's questions.

“I’m bisexual,” Aaron finishes.

Oh.

Okay.

Dean likes the sound of that.

He scoots his stool a little closer to Aaron’s, wondering how it’ll be to kiss him.

As it turns out (later, much later, in the Impala with the engine running), it’s pretty fucking awesome.

 

 

It's not like Dean has never been with a guy before.

Still, it's been a long time since he's sucked cock. He's on his knees and he can't even fathom how fucking happy he is, how confused and giddy and free. 

When Aaron comes down his throat, he savors the taste. He's so close, all Aaron has to do is stroke his cock a few times, kiss his neck, and chuckle softly when they flop back on the bed. 

Dean got a separate room. He told Sam not to wait up.

"I'm staying the night, by the way," Aaron says. There's a rolled joint on the nightstand next to the packet of lube they didn't get around to using. "You, uh. You partake?"

Yeah, it's been a long time.

But Aaron is staying the night. 

The high soothes Dean's nerves, brings him back down and lets him melt on the scratchy mattress. Aaron turns on the television. They watch some bullshit cartoon on mute so Aaaron can do stupid voiceovers and Dean curls up with laughter, kisses the stubble on Aaron's jaw. 

It's a good night. 

 

 

Cas keeps giving Dean these _looks_ , but he's also been out fucking around with Crowley for weeks now, so screw him anyways.

Okay, so it's important to get Lucifer back in the cage. Dean gets that. Dean also gets that Cas needs him to respect his choice, that Cas needs to do this to find some kind of peace with himself.

Cas has to stretch himself so thin just to save the fucking world, as usual.

Dean is just. An ungrateful bastard.

He still hasn't texted Aaron. 

Shit, he hasn't even checked in on Mom yet. That's how hard he's trying not to be selfish.

When they were stoned and naked in a Motel 6, Aaron told Dean it was okay to be selfish. That was in reference to sex, though. Not his stupid fucking frustration with Cas right now. Cas' s hair is messy and his coat is off and if he would just take off his suit jacket he wouldn't look like he's just about to leave again.

Cas is talking about Lucifer and Dean doesn't even have the decency to listen to him.

"You know, you look pretty beat."

Cas shuts up. Leans back in his chair. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Cause, uh -"

"I don't sleep, Dean."

"Yeah, you just got constant dark circles under your eyes. Ever look in a mirror, buddy?"

Cas frowns. 

Dean drinks his beer too fast.

"Do you want me to stay the night?"

"I'm just offering. Geez. I'm just saying."

"And I'm asking, Dean. Do you want me to stay the night."

"I want a million dollars," Dean snaps. "I want another beer and a plate of fucking curly fries, I want a lot of crap."

Cas just stares at him. "You know I'm an angel, Dean. I know a lot of... a lot of things," and there's some snide insinuation there that Dean doesn't want to notice. "I think you should know by now how to ask for what you want."

"The fuck -"

"I'm not angry with you, Dean."

Somehow, Cas always finds a way to blow Dean's fucking mind.

"What do you even mean right now, man?"

"You want to text Aaron back. You want to ask me something, but you won't." Cas is getting up from the table right now. Reaching for his coat. 

This is all going to shambles, and Dean has had fucking enough.

"I don't wanna text him," Dean says. His voice is too hoarse. Too close to cracking. "I mean. Maybe. Kind of. But I want - I just - I don't know why you don't stick around. I don't know why you think you don't belong here."

"Yes, you do."

"I'm sorry I -"

"I wasn't asking for an apology."

"Alright. Okay." 

So Dean gets up. He walks around the table to where Cas is standing, grabs the hand that's holding the coat. 

Cas gives him a single wide-eyed look, and Dean says it. 

"I want you to stay the night. And I want to - I want you to stay for coffee every morning? I want to see your coat on the hook and I want you to take your shoes off for once in a while, and I want to kiss you and -"

Dean doesn't get to finish.

When Cas kisses him, he holds on tight.

**Author's Note:**

> daaron for president


End file.
